The Girl Who Mattered
by World'sOnlyConsultingCriminal
Summary: Molly is pregnant. How is Sherlock going to deal with that...? Sequel to "The Girl Who Counted". Watch out for part three.
1. Chapter 1

_**This is the sequel to "The Girl Who Counted". **_

_**If you haven't yet read it, I would suggest reading that first.**_

_**This could stand on it's own, but you'll have all the background information if you read the other.**_

* * *

As Molly stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door, I sat on the sofa in shock. Molly was pregnant? How could that be? She told me she was on the pill. I'd seen her take it on multiple occasions and she wasn't one to forget something so important. I scolded myself as I remembered the numbers and statistics of how well those things actually work. Of course _we_ had to be stuck in that .01 percentile range of people that still get pregnant anyways.

I closed my eyes and sighed. Molly may never forgive me. I'd just made a complete arse of myself. I had meant everything I had said, however; if I had known the real reasons behind here questioning, I wouldn't have said of word of it. Molly's happiness was all that really mattered to me. Of course! Molly's happiness was _all that really mattered_. If she wanted this baby, if that's what made her happy… Then I would be happy.

I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed that she was pregnant. I'd completely missed the signs. I really should have known about a week ago. I'd noticed she was acting a little off, even if she wasn't aware, but I was too busy with work to say anything. But I definitely should have known when she'd called earlier acting funny and being "sick." Stupid, stupid. "I'm getting slow," I said to myself.

I stood up, and made my way to the bedroom. Time to apologize and "adorable" little puppy dog face and beg for forgiveness.

I knocked on the door to our bedroom. "Molly love?"

"What do you want?" She asked sharply.

"May I come in?" I asked.

I could hear her sigh. "If you must." Her voice sounded muffled. Her head was in a pillow most likely.

I opened the door to find her on the floor face in the carpet. I frowned. "Is something wrong with the bed?"

"It smells of you. I'm too mad at you to have to deal with that." She sat up and glared at me. "What do you want Sherlock?"

"I wanted to apologize." I sat down in front of her, despite the fact that I was wearing one of my best suits. I was aware of the fact that Molly vacuumed every Wednesday, but it was Saturday and you have no idea how much dust and shit collects on the floor during the time span of just ten minutes time. To think of how much would collected over the past three days.

"You can't just fix this one with an apology and that adorable puppy face of yours. That may have worked when you blew up the microwave with a human liver… Or when I found your "collection" of appendixes in the fridge… Or when you kept that bloody head in the bathtub with all that ice. But it is _not_ going to work this time."

"Just hear me out, okay?" I was trying to not get frustrated. She never likes to deal with me when I'm frustrated. Come to think of it, nobody really likes to deal with me when I'm frustrated. I wasn't exactly sure why.

She looked up at me with sad eyes. I was surprised that I couldn't detect any anger in them. I guess that was a good way to start off. "Are you going to leave me?"

I was astounded, how could she possibly think that? "Of course not," I took her hand. "After all we've been through together, you think I'd really just walk out on you?"

She didn't say anything, but just stared down at the floor.

"Molly, I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world. I am _not_ about to leave you."

"What about the baby? What about all the things you said? Like how you find them irritating and their general lack of knowledge annoying. And how they are… how did you put it? Tiny human beings who can't do anything for themselves and are liabilities as they need money, protection and a whole other care system."

I tried not to grimace. "I meant it. All of it. But I can honestly say that I haven't been around children enough to accurately state my opinion. Also, hopefully I can train him or her to…"

Molly cut me off. "He is not a dog Sherlock. You won't "train" him."

"That is irrelevant. This kid will be just as smart as me, if not smarter. Wait… Did you say he?" She couldn't possibly know the sex yet. She couldn't have been more than three or four weeks along. During a normal pregnancy you can tell after 18 to 20 weeks in an ultrasound. Even then, the parts are very small and it can be challenging depending on the position of the baby. The female labia can be swollen and look like a penis and the testicles may not be descended yet into the scrotal sac and look like a labia. That is why it is standard after 18 weeks because the baby is too tiny before that and even 5 days, I knew, could make a big difference. How did I miss that she'd already gone to the doctor for an ultrasound?

She giggled slightly. "Yeah, I just _feel_ like it's a boy. I know it'll be a while till we actually know. But I'm almost absolutely certain it'll be a boy."

"Oh." I said nothing else. My opinion towards "feelings" of that sort would have just upset her more. Her mind was probably unconsciously telling her that she wanted a boy, so in her mind, all she saw was a little baby boy. But as I was thinking that, in my head all I could envision was a mini Sherlock running around the flat dressed up as a pirate and spouting off the elements by atomic number. I grinned. Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all.

* * *

_**We're having a baby! xD**_

_**Thank you guys for your continued support. And I'm sorry I haven't posted anything in a while..**_

_**I've got a couple other stories going on, so don't be afraid to go check those out. c:**_

_**Leave your reviews! Love you guys. c:**_


	2. Chapter 2

My foot tapped on the floor impatiently. Molly had already told me to calm down and to wait patiently a good three or four times, but I couldn't help it. I was nervous, she was nervous, and the longer we had to wait, the more nervous we got. We had had to sit in the waiting room for a good thirty minutes, and now were expected to sit in the small checkup room for another "five to ten minutes." But I was sure we'd just be in here until my hair turned silver, or at least until our baby was ready to be born.

Molly had been complaining for the past week about all of her pregnant symptoms. Of course I already knew them, but she chose to share them with me anyways. Her breasts were bigger, heavier, and sore breasts. Fatigue and nausea. Early pregnancy cramps caused by the ligaments in the abdomen stretching as the uterus expands. And there were other inconveniences such as constipation, indigestion, bloating and heartburn. She had a much heightened sense of smell and was apparently having weird dreams. Everything was just bloody brilliant.

When I saw the doorknob turn, I all but ran to Molly's side and grabbed her hand. The nurse walked in. "I have your results Miss Hooper. It is a positive, even though I'm pretty sure you already knew that. There's no reason you shouldn't at eight weeks."

Molly smiled and squeezed my hand. "Is it too early for an ultrasound?"

I chuckled to myself. I found it funny how Molly already knew the answer to a question like that, but she asked anyways. I wouldn't be the one to do such a thing. But I knew she _would_ be the one to do it, just to humor the nurse.

"Of course not, we can go ahead and have a look if you'd like. Of course it is too soon to tell whether it is male or female." She started setting up the machine and this time I was able to wait patiently. At least now I could see what was going on, and why things were taking so damn long.

When everything was all set up, I watched Molly's face when she got to see your child for the first time. I didn't bother looking up, I just wanted to see her reaction. "He's so little!" She squealed happily. I could see how her eyes lit up while staring at the monitor.

"Well obviously, he's only eight weeks old." Molly glared at me and I shut my mouth. I didn't need to taint this happiness of hers, but it was hard, considering the facts. At eight weeks, the baby is about the size of a raspberry, weighs in at about 0.04 ounces and measures about 0.63 inches. Each day, it grows about one millimeter. By any terms, it was "little." Unless of course, you were comparing it to an atom or something.

"Everything looks good and healthy. I expect you'll continue with monthly checkups for the time being. Would you like to know what's going on right about now?"

Before Molly could reply, I had to put my word in. "At eight weeks, the mother can't feel it yet, but the baby is moving those arms and legs quite a bit. The fingers and toes are now only slightly webbed, and the tail - yes, it had one - is gone. Fun fact: the baby's taste buds are now forming."

"Sherlock! Will you please stop showing off?" Molly makes it sound like I could just stop whenever I wanted to. Hardly. Then she looked over at me. "You didn't look at him…"

"Well I've seen multiple pictures of babies at this stage. Fetus is the more correct term actually. But really? There isn't much to look at. I don't really see the point of putting another useless picture into my brain." It was the truth. They all looked the same at this stage.

Molly glared at me. "Please look at our son, Sherlock."

My eyes rolled. "You don't even know that it is a boy yet. It could be a girl. The chance is split almost completely at fifty to fifty. But it could even be both! Wouldn't that be brilliant? But of course, not even 0.03 percent of children born are true hermaphrodites." I looked at the screen anyway just to please her.

Lines. A bump here and there. A small shape that looked remotely like the beginnings of a baby. A… a heartbeat, there was the heartbeat.

My own heart stopped for a minute. That was my baby. It was my baby boy. I had helped in the creation of that living being. I was feeling so many different things... elated, overwhelmed, shocked, ecstatic, nervous, anxious, and hopeful. I had a whole new respect for this little life that was now so real to me. I knew all of Molly's complaints and mood swings would be worth it. It truly was a miracle. I hadn't believed that at first. It happens every day, and is perfectly natural. Miracles are supposed to be pretty rare and unexplainable, so before I thought that birth hardly counted as a "miracle". But a whole other life form was growing before my eyes, and I couldn't pull my eyes off the screen.

I felt pressure on my hand and I looked back at Molly. She smiled warmly and I smiled back. I didn't notice till then that I was crying. I was ready for this and so was she.

* * *

**_Awwww. c: How cuteee!_**

**_Still brainstorming on name ideas._**

**_Give me boy or girl ones, I'm not telling you the sex yet... :P_**

**_Thanks for being patient with me, I've been pretty distracted lately._**

**_You guys are awesome! Be even more awesome and leave your reviews. c:_**

**_I'll try to have the next chapter up soon. Now we get to tell everybodyyy. John, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Mycroft... Oh Mycroft. xD_**


	3. Chapter 3

We told Mrs. Hudson first. She was so ecstatic, as I knew she would be. She made us promise to keep her updated on all the checkups and such. And she told Molly if she needed a babysitter later on, she was more than ready to take on the job. As we were leaving, Mrs. Hudson took a good look at Molly and pulled me aside.

"It's a girl." She said quietly.

"She's convinced it will be a boy," I whispered back.

"She hasn't the slightest clue then." Mrs. Hudson winked at me. "Hurry along now though. Before she gets in that cab without you."

I looked over to see Molly waiting for me impatiently while holding the cab door open. I hurry up and slid into the cab. She wanted to tell John next, but at the time, he was at work. The last time I'd bugged him at work, he'd practically bitten my head off, and I really wasn't in the mood for a replay, this time with my girlfriend involved. Molly also wanted to go see Greg, but I didn't think we needed to bother telling him at all. However, I offered to text him, but she still wouldn't have it.

"Can't you at least call him, Sherlock? Are you really that lazy?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, and for the record, I am not lazy." I picked up my mobile phone and quickly dialed Lestrade's number.

"Hello, Sherlock. What kind of trouble are you in this time?"

"Why do you always assume I'm in trouble when I call you?" I looked over at Molly when she giggled.

"Because you are always in trouble when you call me, it's just a fact."

I tried not to sound annoyed, "Well I guess today can go on the calendar then, I'm calling because Molly and I have good news."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, well Molly… I mean _we_ just thought you would like to know that we're expecting."

I had to hold the phone away from my ear as Lestrade yelled. All I caught was, "You get it Sherlock! I knew you had it in you!... Congrats man." Which translated to, "I cannot believe Sherlock Holmes is having sex and I'm not."

"Thank you."

"Tell Molly congrats too, would you? I should probably go. You know… work."

"Of course. Talk to you later Lestrade."

"Bye." He hung up and I turned to Molly.

"Happy?"

"Extremely." She smiled. "Your brother just texted me and invited us over for dinner tonight."

"Tell him we can't go."

"Don't be like that, love. Of course we are going. He _is_ your brother after all."

"So?" I asked childishly.

"So? So what? He's your brother. And that's the end of the story. You'll just have to deal with it."

I wanted to keep arguing, but there really wasn't a point. Molly Hooper was the only person in the world who could get Sherlock Holmes to do anything he didn't want to do. Unfortunately, it took me a long time to realize that. I chose not to reply, but sulked in the cab on the way to Mycroft's place. I didn't know what he had in mind, but I didn't want to know.

We were pulling up the drive when Molly suddenly asked, "Do you think he knows?"

"Of course he knows. But if he doesn't, I'm sure he knows something is up." Mycroft had his sources. Even if those sources could only get him some of the information, he was enough like me to deduce the rest. Any simple mind could do it really, if they just put their mind to it. Surprisingly enough, Mycroft was smart enough to fit into that category.

"What do you think he'll say?" Molly asked worriedly.

"Congrats. And then…" I thought about it for a moment. "I'm not exactly sure… It's not like I've been in this kind of situation before. In case you weren't aware, I've never gotten a girl pregnant before. At least, not that I'm aware of."

Molly glared at me. "That's not really a great way to make me feel better… But thanks."

"I'm sorry." I replied as we got out of the car. "There's nothing to worry about, I promise."

Mycroft greeted us as we walked up the stairs to his extravagantly large mansion. "Sherlock, nice to see you. Molly! You look lovely."

"Thank you, Mycroft. Thanks for inviting us over, you have such a lovely home."

"Oh thank you dear." Mycroft gave me his "thank you for doing something normal finally" look before guiding us into the house. "I wanted to congratulate you two."

"Thank you." Molly replied, but I just rolled my eyes. Typical Mycroft, he was always trying to be on _somebody's_ good side. Especially mine, but I wasn't about to give in.

We sat down at his abnormally large dining room table and waiters came out with drinks. As one of them made way to pour Molly a glass of wine, I stopped him. "We'll be drinking water tonight. No alcohol, especially for the lady."

Mycroft sighed. "Couldn't she be allowed just one glass for such a special evening?"

"No!" Molly and I said at the same time. Molly smiled at me, and I smiled back before facing Mycroft. "When a person is pregnant, the baby grows inside them, obviously. Everything they eat and drink while they are pregnant affects the baby. If they drink alcohol, it can hurt the baby's growth. Their baby may have physical and behavioral problems that can last for the rest of his or her life. Children born with the most serious problems caused by alcohol have fetal alcohol syndrome. Children with fetal alcohol syndrome may: Be born small, have problems eating and sleeping, have problems seeing and hearing, have trouble following directions and learning how to do simple things, have trouble paying attention and learning in school, need special teachers and schools, have trouble getting along with others and controlling their behavior, need medical care all their lives. So no, Mycroft. She cannot have any alcohol."

Mycroft sat back looking angry. I could tell it was going to be a long night.

* * *

_**Sorry dears, it's been a while. D= I've been quite busy with school.**_

_**But I get out soon so then there will be unlimited time for fanfics! Yay. c:**_

_**We'll be having a baby soon, within the next 2 or 3 chapters, and I'm pretty sure I've picked the name.**_

_**Thank you all for leaving your ideas! Drop a couple more by if you'd like, I might always change my mind.**_

_**Anyways, review if you liked this chapter, review if you didn't. It was poorly written, so I apologize..**_

_**I was pressured by a friend to hurry up and update. You can blame her. c:**_

_**Next chapter should be up before long!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**_This chapter is somewhat pointless... So I apologize ahead of time._**

* * *

My eyes flitted over all of the glass cases. There were so many options and Molly had never once discussed her preference in stones and cuts and styles with me. The band could be gold, white gold, silver, or platinum. There was more than one type of "setting." There were tons of gemstones to choose from and different combinations that emitted from that as well. And of course there was the "five c's": carat, color, clarity, cut, and cost. The last of the five being the least important. However I had no idea what to do about the other four. I remembered her distaste for pearls and topaz, but beyond that I had no idea what kind of engagement ring she'd like. I wasn't even sure if she would say yes if I popped the question.

All I knew there was one event that had occurred that made me want to propose and make Molly mine forever, even if the meaning of the word "forever" was illogical. Telling Molly's mother was harder than expected. She had yelled and thrown things at us for "sinning." And after she had somewhat calmed down, she had sat at Molly's feet and said things about me as if I wasn't there. "Molly Hooper, I cannot believe you've become involved with a freak. As soon as he realizes how much work this is going to be, he will leave you. Guys like him always do." Molly had taken it all in silence. She had been clearly embarrassed by her mother's sudden outburst, but she seemed a little worried as well.

I wanted Molly to know that I wasn't about to walk out on her, that I truly loved her and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. Marrying her could only help show her that.

"Can I help you?" Asked the lady behind the counter. I looked over her slowly: recently walked out on her unfaithful husband, leaving him with their two... no three kids, she was staying with her sister and most likely beginning an affair with her brother-in-law, she was living on a small saleswoman salary and hadn't had a proper meal in a good five or six days. I held back a grimace. I'm sure she'd do about anything to get me to buy one of the most expensive rings just so she could receive the commission on it. But all I really wanted was something Molly would love.

"Yes, actually. I'm looking for an engagement ring for my girlfriend." I said, acting the nervous and shy boyfriend.

"Oh? That's wonderful! Do you have any ideas in mind?"

"Not particularly. I don't really know what she likes. She's not fond of topaz, peridot, or pearls. And she's not fond of anything real expensive or flashy." I watched her eyes flicker to the large, gaudy rings that were on the high end price range, I think I actually heard her sigh.

Before she could reply, I heard someone walk up behind me. "Having troubles brother?"

I rolled my eyes. "Go away, Mycroft. I can do this myself."

"If you say so."

I cursed myself. I obviously had no idea what I was doing, but asking for Mycroft's help was low, especially for me. I turned around to see Mycroft standing next to John.

"John? What are you doing here?"

"I know Molly better than you would think. While you were… away, Molly and I became quite close." John smiled slightly.

I grinned. "I'm going to owe you one."

"Actually, you will have to owe Mycroft one. He was the one that came to get me and let me know that you had been standing in the same jewelry store for over an hour."

I just rolled my eyes. I'd never allow myself to "owe" something to my elder brother.

Mycroft sighed. "Good day, Sherlock. John. No offense, but I have less trivial matters to attend to." He walked out briskly. I chuckled, had he really put on another seven pounds? So much for that diet he was always going on about.

John wandered over to the counter opposite mine. "She likes things simple and elegant. Nothing fancy and insanely expensive. In case you have never noticed, she wears almost the exact same set of jewelry when she goes out, no matter what she wears. Why? Because she buys things that will go with anything and everything instead of buying something new for every outfit."

I looked at John with a newfound respect. I had obviously taught him a thing or two. "So what you are saying is that she'd like something that would match with everything she already has to wear."

"Precisely."

"So just diamonds? No other gemstones?"

John just smiled and nodded.

"But what about the band?"

"Platinum. She'll want something that will last with little wear. If cleaned regularly, it'll stay in good shape."

I walked over to stand next to John. I pointed to a simple, elegant ring. The stone was a relatively good size, big enough that she could show off, but not so big that it would look out of place or showy. "That one?"

John grinned. "That is exactly which one I was going to suggest."

I grabbed John in a giant hug. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." John was quiet for a moment. "Umm... Sherlock? Could you let me go?"

"Oh, yes. Of course. Sorry." I let go of him and he looked up at me.

"Congrats. So how are you going to do it?"

I looked down at my shoes, defeated. _Shit_, I hadn't gotten that far yet.

* * *

**_I know, this chapter is pointless. Once again, I'm sorry._**

**_I have no idea how to have Sherlock propose.. So you have any good ideas... Leave a review or Private Message me._**

**_Please let me know what you think, and check out my other fanfics if you need something to read. c:_**

**_Shout out to KHANNNNNNNNNNNN. Love ya girl. c;_**


	5. Chapter 5

I stepped into the flat nervously, the small box in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. "Molly? Are you home?" I slipped off my coat and draped it over the sofa. "Molly?" I called out a bit louder.

"Sherlock? Is that you?" I heard from inside the bathroom.

"Yeah." I said nervously.

"I'm about to get into the shower, love."

I grimaced; I wasn't sure how much longer I could go without asking. "Alright. I want to talk to you when you're out though."

"Is everything alright?" Molly asked. I saw the doorknob turn and I was just quick enough to toss the flowers on the sofa, out of sight, and slip the ring into my pocket.

I looked down at her face innocently. "Of course. Everything is fine. Why wouldn't everything be fine?" I stopped myself from babbling too much. I had never in my life been so nervous that I actually babbled on and on like a teenage girl. I knew that stress and fear of the unknown can trigger some interesting human behaviors, including the need for incessant nervous chatter. There are some people who cover their feelings by filling the air with words, a condition sometimes called logorrhea. But, for most people, talking serves just as a sort of calming mechanism in reaction to certain stressors. However, I'm not most people. A number of people find talking to be a stress reliever, at least for themselves. As long as they can continue talking, other thoughts and fears cannot enter their consciousness. A nervous flier, for example, may talk his way through the entire take-off process as a way to reassure himself nothing is going wrong. But this couldn't possibly be something _Sherlock Holmes_ would do.

Molly looked at me with a concerned face before shrugging. "Alright. I'll just be a bit." After she shut the door, it wasn't long before I heard the shower being turned on.

I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath until I let it out in a big gasp. That was a little too close. My phone rang and I jumped. I _literally_ jumped. I let out a sigh when I realized it was Mycroft.

"Mycroft. What do you want?" I asked, exasperated.

"I just wanted to see how it's going."

"You already know how it's going." I retorted.

"Yes, but I figured I'd ask anyways to be polite."

"Since when do you care about being polite?" I asked angrily.

"That's beside the point, Sherlock." Mycroft said, dodging the real question.

I let my breath out in a huff. "Everything is going fine. Now leave me alone."

"Obviously everything is _not_ going fine. You haven't proposed yet. Am I correct?"

"Yes… But…"

"No buts Sherlock. You need to stop being so nervous. I can see you shaking in this camera right now."

I looked around, trying to figure out where that camera might be. I couldn't see anything obvious so I just sighed. I'd wait until later to figure it out.

"Goodbye, Mycroft."

"Sherlock, wait..." But I hung up the phone. His concern was unnecessary and illogical. I was perfectly capable of doing this on my own… I hoped.

I went about setting some candles in our room, lighting them one by one. I knew Molly wouldn't have wanted a big, public affair. But that didn't mean I couldn't do something a bit romantic at home. I'd considered getting rose petals, but that whole idea just seemed too original.

I sat on the edge of the bed nervously. Molly's showers usually lasted about twenty-three minutes. I still had a whole… Eighteen to go. I tried to practice what I was going to say, but I stuttered over the words and before I knew it, I was sweating like crazy. Before, I'd heard the old expression about sweating bullets. I knew the expression came about because many people have a tendency to sweat when they are nervous, anxious, or excited. For some people, the sweating can be profuse, and the more nervous the person is, the more heavy the sweating. Different situations or different types of nervousness can cause sweating for different people. Some people only sweat when they are the focus of attention for large groups of people, such as when giving a speech or presentation. Other people only sweat in new situations that they have never experienced before. Still others sweat in the presence of someone they like romantically. However, never before had I experienced sweating besides during exercise. No matter the situation in which someone sweats, it is because sweating is controlled by the nervous system. The real reason for sweating is to cool us down when our body temperature rises. When our body is exposed to high outside temperatures, high humidity, or because we are expending energy in exercise, our sympathetic nervous system triggers our body to begin sweating. When the sweat on our exposed skin evaporates, it causes air to rush in and cool us down. When we get into situations that make us nervous, the same part of the sympathetic nervous system is activated. Adrenaline is also produced that further affects the parts of the nervous system that make us sweat. When we are nervous our body responds with what is called the "fight or flight" response. This means our body prepares to either engage in some sort of physical combat or to run away, both as options for survival. Our fight or flight response causes our blood vessels to constrict, forcing blood into the heart and the brain. Our heart rate increases and our face may turn red and feel hot because of the excess blood. Because the sympathetic nervous system is so entwined, it causes other parts of our body to react also. Our eyes dilate and our sweat glands activate.

I shook my head. I really needed to stop doing that. Thinking about sweating and being nervous was only making me more nervous and sweat more. I was about ready to find a way to turn off my brain occasionally, because obviously, in certain situations, it went a little overboard. And in this situation, I went a lot overboard. I was only thankful nobody was around to have to deal with it.

I looked at my mobile phone. I still had at least another fourteen minutes before Molly was done with her shower. I really couldn't wait any longer. I stood up and grabbed the little box, debating for a moment if I should take the flowers or not. I decided to leave them on the bed, and I strode purposefully into the bathroom.

"Molly?" I was happy to hear that my voice didn't stutter at all.

"Yes, love?" She pulled the shower curtain aside and popped her head out. Her hair still had shampoo in it.

I got down on one knee slowly and watched her eyes open wide with surprise. "I wanted to wait to do this, but I just couldn't last any longer. Molly Hooper, you are the single most amazing woman in the history of the world, and you would make me the single most happy man if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife. Marry me? Please?" I opened the box so she could see the ring I'd bought not even an hour before.

Tears started streaming down her face and she flung out of the shower and into my arms, sending soap suds everywhere and soaking me almost instantly. "Yes! Yes, of course!" She cried happily.

I grinned and slid the ring onto her finger before leaning down to kiss her gently. I started slipping off my clothes since I was now already wet. "Now how about that shower?"

* * *

**_And boom. I'll leave the sexy times to your imagination._**

**_I'm sorry this chapter took so long.. And i'm sorry if there's a lot of mistakes.. Its one o'clock in the morning. ._**

**_Shout out to SammyKatz who gave me the idea for the proposal. c: Thank you so much._**

**_Leave a review and let me know what you think._**

**_I'm going to get some much needed sleep. -le sigh-_**

**_Obviously you should feel special. I just stayed up late to type this... And to talk to a cute boy, but that's besides the point._**

**_OMIGOD. There was just a spider on my bed. Guess who is going to sleep on the floor... Halp._**


	6. Chapter 6

I watched Molly flip through magazine after magazine. She wanted a simple, white wedding gown, but it was surprisingly difficult to find one in a maternity size.

"Molly?" I said softly.

"Yes, Sherlock?" She looked up, somewhat startled after the hours of total silence.

"Are you _sure_ you wouldn't rather wait until after the baby comes to have this wedding? I mean, the dress will be easier to find, and that way we can have the time to plan a big wedding. There really is not any real reason to rush."

Molly sighed. "Getting cold feet already?"

"No. And by the way, that term is hugely overused. It started in the 1800's. Isn't it time we came up with something new?"

"I want this, Sherlock. I don't want some big, expensive, over the top wedding with people there that I barely know. I'm perfectly happy to have just our close friends and family there." Molly said quietly.

"Is this really because of your mum? I don't want to make _her_ happy. She doesn't really matter in the scheme of things. However, you do. And all I really want is for _you_ to be happy." I said, crossing the room to sit next to her.

"I am happy." Molly kissed my cheek before going back to her magazines. "You make me happy, and this baby will make me happy when he arrives."

"We still don't know for a fact that it's a boy," I teased, referring to the fact that many ultrasounds and many frustrated nurses later, we still didn't know the sex of the child. Whenever we had tried, the fetus had been turned just the wrong way to get a good look.

Molly glared at me for a second before grinning. "I can just _tell_. You know?"

"No, but alright." I jumped when Molly groaned a little bit. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm fine. He is just really active today." Her hands fluttered to her now very noticeably swollen abdomen. "You know, Sherlock, you don't need to look so frightened of him."

"I'm not _frightened_ of it. But… I mean it causes you physical pain." I grimaced at how pathetic that had come out, but honestly, it hurt me when Molly was hurting.

"It doesn't hurt. It may be somewhat uncomfortable at times, but he never hurts me." She grabbed my hand and led it to her stomach. "Here, just wait a moment."

I waited uncertainly. But before long, I felt the slight pressure of the fetus's kick. I flinched at first, but before long I had the side of my face pressed against it, impatiently awaiting the next sign of movement. Molly giggled slightly and pulled her fingers through my hair. "Sherlock, you can always manage to surprise me."

We laid there for a while before Molly started yawning. It was early, but I knew she needed her sleep. I'd read that not sleeping well can lead to a number of problems. Expectant mothers who have poor nighttime sleep are more likely to have a depressed mood, attention and memory problems, excessive daytime sleepiness, more nighttime falls, and use more over-the-counter or prescription sleep aids, all of which may adversely affect the healthy development of her baby. In addition, recent studies associate lack of sleep with serious health problems such as an increased risk of obesity, cardiovascular disease and diabetes. None of which I wanted Molly to have to deal with. "Come on, Molly, let's go to bed." I got up and held out my hand. She took it gratefully and led the way to the bedroom.

We both got ready quietly. I was remembering something I'd read on the internet not too long ago. The bonding process for Daddy and the baby can start early on in the womb. Research has shown that babies whose father's talked to them constantly while they were in the womb are responsive to the father's voice. It doesn't really matter what you talk about, as long as you're talking. I wanted to bond with this baby, and this was the only way to do so before it was born that I could come up with.

I mentioned something to Molly and her face just lit up as she crawled into bed. I crawled in next to her, and tried not to feel uncomfortable or embarrassed to cuddle up next to Molly's baby belly and introduce myself to the baby. "Story time, little person… By 1000 BC, ancient civilizations used technologies that would eventually form the basis of the various branches of chemistry. Examples include extracting metals from ores, making pottery and glazes, fermenting beer and wine, making pigments for cosmetics and painting, extracting chemicals from plants for medicine and perfume, making cheese, dying cloth, tanning leather, rendering fat into soap, making glass, and making alloys like bronze…"

Molly interrupted me with a thump to the head. "No."

"What?" I asked, slightly confused.

"The first thing you talk to our baby about will _not_ be the history of chemistry." Molly complained.

"Why? It's not like he'll remember."

"Fine, let me rephrase. _I'd_ rather not have to listen to the history of chemistry."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine…"

_Once upon a time there were three insufficient swine and the time came for them to leave home and seek their fortunes. Before they left, their mother told them, "Whatever you do, do it the best that you can because that's the way to get along in the world and not become blithering idiots like Anderson."_

_ The first minute swine built his house out of dry stalks of cereal plants commonly known as straw because it was the easiest but most illogical thing to do. The second small swine built his house out of sticks. This was a little bit stronger than a straw house; however, I'm sure Anderson could have done better. The third meager pig built his house out of bricks._

_One night the big bad wolf, who dearly loved to eat fat little Sus scrofa domesticus*, came along and saw the first little swine in his house of straw. He said, "Let me in, let me in, little pig or I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your pathetic house in!"_

_"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin," said the swine. But of course the wolf did blow the house in and devoured the first undeveloped swine._

_The wolf then came to the house of sticks. "Let me in, let me in, little pig or I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your measly house in." _

_"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin," said the junior swine. But the wolf blew that house in too, and consumed the second tiny swine._

_The wolf then came to the house of bricks. "Let me in, let me in." Cried the wolf, "Or I'll huff and I'll puff till I blow your useless house in."_

_"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin," said the swine._

_Well, the wolf huffed and puffed but he could not blow down that brick house. But the wolf was a sly old wolf and he ascended to the roof to look for a way into the brick house. Luckily, the smart little swine saw the wolf scale the side of the building and deduced his plan, lighting a roaring fire in the fireplace and placed on it a large kettle of water._

_When the wolf finally found the hole in the chimney he crawled down and fell like an idiot right into that kettle of water and that was the end of his troubles with the big bad Canis lupus*. And so the stubby swine lived happily ever after, unlike his idiotic brothers. The end._

By the time I was finished with the story, Molly was fast asleep. It wasn't long before I was as well.

* * *

*Sus scrofa domesticus - scientific name for a domestic pig

*Canis lupus - scientific name for a grey wolf

* * *

**_Hope you guys liked this chapter. c: I sure enjoyed writing a sort of Sherlockified version of the three little pigs. c:_**

**_I'm sure it could be better, but I'm starting to get tired. D=_**

**_Anyways, there will mostly likely be only one more chapter..._**

**_And I hope you guys are ready. Feels are about to get broken._**

**_Btw, I have picked a name for the baby. However, I need a middle name._**

**_Leave your suggestions, and if you want to know the first name, let me know._**

**_I want it to be a surprise, but I also need help coming up with a good middle name. #complicated_**

**_Thanks for sticking with me guys. I love you! c:_**


	7. Chapter 7

I stood nervously in front of Lestrade, who was straightening my bowtie. I hated wearing a tux, but Molly wouldn't let me wear my favorite purple shirt with pants. "Don't look so nervous." Lestrade muttered.

"I'm not nervous." I scoffed.

"You could have fooled me." I didn't say anything and he just sighed. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes." I replied shortly.

"Alright," He stepped back a bit. "You… um… You look great."

I tried not to laugh. "Right, thanks. I'm going to see Molly."

As I started off down the hall, Lestrade called out, "She won't be very happy about that!"

I just shrugged as I tried to find the room she had been getting ready in. Unfortunately, Molly had accepted the offer of Mycroft allowing us to have the ceremony and reception at the Holmes' estate. Even though I'd spent most of my childhood here, the place still confused me. The architecture and layout was simply illogical.

I walked into my old bedroom and froze as I saw my soon to be wife. Her hair was curled, and it was all left down, framing her face just perfectly. She wore just enough makeup to look elegant, not too simple in comparison with everything else, and not too extreme and showy. But her dress… It was so graceful, and so simple. And just so… Molly. She was so perfect, right down to that baby bump.

Molly looked up at me and glared. "What are you doing in here? It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!"

I rolled my eyes. "That is just a silly, old superstition. It originates from century old superstitions that would avoid incurring bad luck. In ancient times, marriages were considered a business arrangement made between family members, rather than a celebration of love. Marriages cemented alliances between families and insured transfer of land and wealth between them. Often the groom had not met or even seen his future wife before the ceremony. The bride was kept hidden to eliminate any disapproval of her from the groom. It was feared that once seeing her he may have refused to proceed with the ceremony. This of course would have bought bad luck, by putting the family's financial arrangements in jeopardy. Nowadays, most couples are leaving this superstition behind, as should you. Anyways, you look absolutely beautiful, Molly."

I could see her trying not to smile, but her eyes betrayed her. "That's besides the point. What are you doing in here?"

"I wanted to make sure everything was alright. Are you sure you're okay with all this?" I asked, referring to the fact that we were getting married outside Mycroft's insanely large and glorious home.

"Yes, of course. It was lovely of your brother to do all of this for us."

"Yes, well. I'm sure he just wants to be the baby's life as Uncle Crofty… Plus, did you see the size of the cake he's picked out?" I chuckled.

"Don't be like that, Sherlock." But she laughed anyway, looking around curiously. "So this was your old room?"

I didn't bother looking around. This was my own little mini version of hell, all packed up inside a bigger hell. I nodded once, "Yes, it's exactly how I left it actually. A bit odd."

Molly looked at me with sad eyes, "It's so…"

"Boring? Pathetic? Un-childlike?" I interrupted.

"I was going to say lonely."

"Yes, well. That was my childhood summed up into one small word." I replied quietly.

"Well, you don't ever have to feel that way again." She hugged me lightly. "Now get out of here. I believe we've both got a wedding to attend…" Molly froze."

Molly? What's wrong?"

She looked down, "Um. Sherlock? I think my water just broke."

My eyes widened. "We're having a baby?"

"Yes, we're having a baby!"

I grinned and swept her off her feet. "Our guests will be disappointed." I said, all but running down the hall.

Molly laughed. "It'll be fine. As soon as I've recovered, we'll pick up where we left off. We might need to find a new dress though."

"I only have this tux rented for today!" We both giggled as we burst outside, startling some of the guests who were already seated.

"Mycroft!" I yelled. "We need to borrow your car. The baby is coming!"

Mycroft turned away from the overly large, currently covered cake. I was sure that whoever provided it, brought it early, just so Mycroft could be absolutely tortured. He pressed a key on his phone and it wasn't even a minute later before the familiar, sleek car pulled up. I put Molly in the back and slid in beside here, telling the driver to step on it. I held Molly's hand tightly, trying to maintain my breathing. Molly needed me, I couldn't pass out now.

_**A couple hours later**_

The baby's first cry took me off guard. Tears welled up in my eyes as a tiny _pink_ bundle was handed to me. "Molly, you were wrong." I said, laying the baby in her arms. "It's a girl."

Molly smiled down at her fondly. "We never discussed names." She looked up at me expectantly.

"Whatever you like."

Molly looked at her thoughtfully. "Victoria, I like Victoria."

I sighed. "We're not living in the nineteenth century, and it's such a mouthful."

She just giggled. "Alright then. How about Rose? It's beautiful, simple, _and_ a bit more modern."

"Really? A rose is an overly praised flower. Must we name her after a flower? Daisy, Rose, Lily, Violet, Iris… All overused. And don't even get me started on months: April, July, June, May, October… There's no imagination there. No creativity."

Molly laughed. "Never in my life have I come across someone named _October_."

"Well, at least that one's a little bit different. But still, there's no originality." I frowned as something starting beeping uncontrollably. I look down to see Molly now unconscious. I took the unnamed child from her and backed away, allowing the nurses to take over.

Once came up to me and took the baby. "You need to leave now."

"I want to stay," I said, reaching back for the infant.

"No. I'm afraid I can't allow you to. The baby needs certain premature tests; I want to make sure everything is developed correctly. Whereas you are no longer permitted to be in here."

I was all but shoved out the door. I had nothing to do but call John. "Hey! How'd it go? Boy or girl?"

"Girl." I managed to choke out.

"Sherlock? What's wrong?"

"Molly. She… I don't know. They kicked me out. What could have gone wrong?"

"I'm… I'm not sure."

"John Hamish Watson, you are a doctor. Please prepare me for the worst." I commanded.

"Sherlock, I'm not in pediatrics. So you can't take my word as gospel, however; she could have gotten a hernia… This would have resulted in too much blood loss… If she already had some sort of infection, that could have caused problems. Sherlock, the worst case scenario is that she doesn't make it. But that will _not_ happen. The numbers for women dying in childbirth are considerably less than one percent. Just relax."

I couldn't say anything; I couldn't breathe. So I just hung up. I knew everything John had said, but it still hurt for someone else to tell me. Statistics had failed us the first time, who said they wouldn't do so again? Before long, a nurse walked out. "Your daughter is in the infant ward now. You can go see her if you would like." She pointed to the right. "It's just around that corner. She's quite healthy, you're lucky."

"And my fiancé?" I questioned quietly.

"I'm not aware of her conditions. I'm sorry." And with that, she walked off.

I fought back the tears as I got up. She was going to be fine, she _had_ to be fine. As I stepped into the room of babies, my eyes immediately focused on her. Among all the other infants, I could instantly pick out my daughter.

I stood over her, watching her open and close her eyes, adjusting to this new, large, and confusing world. I wanted nothing more than to protect this tiny little being from everyone and everything. I heard footsteps behind me and I turned around swiftly.

"I thought I'd find you in here, Mr. Holmes." Said the doctor who had delivered the baby. I couldn't deduce anything from her facial expressions. Over the years, I imagine that delivers of good and bad news must perfect the perfect blank face.

"How is she?"

"Mr. Holmes, we did everything we could, but I regret to inform you that we just couldn't save her. I'm so very sorry."

I blinked, sending those stubborn tears cascading down my face for the first time. "Women rarely die in childbirth these days."

"Yes, but there are those rare occasions. I am very sorry." She paused. "Is there anyone you want me to call?"

I shook my head. "I'll take care of it." I turned back to the baby. The little sign said, "I'm a girl! Congrats to mommy and daddy: Molly Hooper and Sherlock Holmes. My name is _."

"I guess we're on our own, Victoria Rose."

* * *

**_I'm sorry if your feels are broken._**

**_It was my friends idea from the beginning, and I regret to inform you, this was my vision all along._**

**_There may ending up being a third story, showing how Sherlock copes... However, it might be a while._**

**_You can follow me and keep an eye out for it though._**

**_I love you guys! You're awesome! Even if you're angry at me..._**

**_Leave your reviews, yell if you must. I understand._**

**_Until next time... _**

**_xxx James Moriarty_**


	8. Updateee

Hello my lovely followers.

I hate to randomly post on something that I haven't updated in a long time, but its come to my attention that very few of you continued with the and part of this fanfic.

I just thought that I would let you know that i've started it, and will try to post every weekish or so.

Thanks loves. C:


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